Kuchirumi :Geikami Soul Kindled : Enter the Bokken!
Training, 4/26/2015 Training for Kenjutsu Tier 1 Every Geikami he'd ever heard of was a maste rof two things : Wind and explosives. He didn't want to be just another face in the crowd, he wanted people to hear his voice when he spoke. Thats why he'd picked up a bookken with his recent earnings, a nice harwood with a solid steel rod at it's core. The weapon was currently drapped across his shoulders as he stretched his legs, the gloomy settnig the rain turned the training grounds into making the perfect back drop to his goal. Taking the weapon in both hands, he glanced around the field before charging the first dummy, hands coming down from above in and attempt to cleave the burlap and starw beat-bag in two. What he go,t however, was a dose of reality as he ran into the training tool, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending him to the ground, his weapon clattering away. He'd forgotten to swing like some bullheaded kumo wrestler. Rubbing his chest, and making certain he'd not damaged anything, he rose to his feet and retrieved his weapon, turning on his heel to aim the weapon once more at the dummy, a smirk hidden behind his tall collar. 'You are a worthy opponent~' he thought with a poorly dubbed asian accent, his mouth moving as though he were badly lip syncing his thoughts. Grasping the weapon jutst under the rubber tsuba, he held it at hip level in his right hand. Moving his left hand to hover over the handle, he charged once more, silvery gaze never once leaving the would be prey. BUT HARK! he didn't see the root the jutted from the ground a mere four feet before him, concealed via the newest layer of mud. 'I got you know!' came his victorious thought, 'drawing' the blade as though his hand were a sheathe at the exact moment he stumbled, his bokken catching in the muck as he tripped causing his descending forehead to impact with the butt of the weapon, drawing forth a flood of blood from the open gash it caused. It also sent him once more to the ground, this time for a several hour long nap. Awakening and feeling refreshed, the Geikami youth was unaware of what had transpired at first, his view of the stars between angry storm clouds slowly reminding him of where he was and why he looked like a unicorn, the crimson bump between his eyes having risen at least four inches in his sleep. 'No more...' he thought, renewing his grip on the ebony colored bokken. 'NO MORE!' came the mental scream as he threw himself at the dummy, darting under it's left 'arm, eyes dancing from his immediate area to the target's , keeping his body on iot's path despite its desire to follow his gaze. His left foot stuck in the mud as he made his pass, but instead of panicing, he went with it, following the rotation his momentum causedand bringing his weapon down across the dummy's back, his foot coming free with the motion. Immediatly following up with a strike that started from the lower right 'hip' and across, he released the weapon for a milisecond after his second slash, flipping his right hand so the weapn was in a downpoint grip, the left cupping the pommel, and lunged forward, driving the weapon through the poor utensil's back and out its chest, the paint chipping from the force of the blow and dragging across the burlap and rough support structure that kept the dummy in place. 'Need..asprin...' he complained to himself as he tried to remove the bokken from the dummy, rubbing his still raw injury. 'At least the rain kept it clean...' he mused, shaking the fuzz from hi thoughts as he left the training area. He understood the basics of this stick, that he needed to watch his foot placement as well as his momentum and the direction it would take him if he failed his attack. Both hands were now on the weapon, trying to tug it free. He'd impaled it to the point of burying the tsuba, and was now having a hell of a time freeing his newest toy. 'Bloody hell..its stuck...' With a sigh he pulled an exploding tag from tool pouch and set it at the base of the dummy. Stepping back twenty feet, he detonated it, sending a shower of debris rainning down across the training grounds. He caught his weapon, now charred black rather than painted, and slipped it onto his back, pleased with what he'd come to unerstand thus far. FOr now, he was going to head off and grab some food, a bath, and then a well deserved steak to the forehead.